


Call Me a Dreamer

by LeChatRouge673



Series: Canon Verse Stories and Wanderings [1]
Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Inquisition, Dragon Age: Origins, Dragon Age: Origins - Awakening
Genre: Canon Divergent, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-24
Updated: 2018-03-17
Packaged: 2019-03-22 10:37:21
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 22,617
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13762335
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LeChatRouge673/pseuds/LeChatRouge673
Summary: Set in the canon 'verse, but (obviously) does not strictly follow canon events. The story of how Theadosia and Loghain found each other and, in the process, some semblance of peace and a happiness neither of them thought they would ever know.





	1. Mercy

_In the ruins of madness_  
_A ghost of a chance_  
_There is new hope reborn in every tragedy._

-“Under Grey Skies” by Kamelot

 

* * *

 

The weight of a man’s life was heavier than Cataline Cousland thought it would be.

She held the sword with less grace than she would have liked; the blade unfamiliar to hands that were accustomed to daggers and bows. Eamon had handed it to her with a grim certainty, as though he had already known the choice she would make even before she did. Alistair had offered to fight the duel for her, and she had no doubt he would have, but she also knew that Alistair’s rage was such that he would not have the clarity of mind or judgement to make the decision she was now faced with. Kneeling before her, beaten and broken, was Teyrn Loghain Mac Tir: the man who had nearly torn her country apart in the name of keeping out Orlais, and who had spent the better part of the past ten months trying to have her killed like the rest of the Wardens.

The man that she had grown up admiring as a hero.

Riordan had offered her a way out: a way to save whatever could be saved. Alistair, of course, had protested vehemently. Wynne had not said a word, but Cat could practically feel the judgement and disdain radiating from the mage. Zevran was the only one who had shrugged and said that it was her decision. He alone did not seem terribly bothered by the consequences, although she knew that somewhere beneath the carefully indifferent façade her assassin friend was holding his own thoughts and opinions close to his chest.

Cataline glanced over at Queen Anora, who had abandoned her grace and poise and was now sobbing quietly, her hands covering her face. The queen’s grief touched her in a way she had not expected, and Cat found herself reliving memories that were still fresh and raw in her mind of another young woman, not much older than the queen, who had lost her father far too soon. Turning from Anora, she looked up to the gallery where the assembled lords and ladies of the Landsmeet were watching her with the same intent expectation that Eamon was: to them, the choice was already made. But then, her gaze fell on a pair of storm blue eyes that, though they would have betrayed nothing to those around her, spoke volumes to Cat.

_Save him if you can_.

 

* * *

 

 

“Thea, what are you doing here?”

Her cousin and best friend gave her the small half smile she favored as they embraced tightly. The Landsmeet would be convening in only a few hours, and Cataline was doing her best to prepare herself for what was to come. The unexpected arrival of Theadosia Trevelyan had been a welcome surprise.

“I came to try and find you, Cat,” the younger woman replied. “You are a remarkably difficult woman to pin down, you know that? When word reached me of what happened back home…” Thea’s voice trailed off, and Cat knew she was blaming herself for not having been there. Cat’s parents had fostered Thea ever since she was seven years old, and the two girls had grown up as sisters rather than cousins. They were nigh inseparable, and the only prayer of thanks Cataline had managed on that horrific night in Highever had been that neither Thea nor Fergus had been home.

“I am sorry, Thea,” they stepped into the library and sat down by the fire. She knew Thea tended towards cold, and autumn was fast approaching. “Things have been a bit chaotic. I should have tried to send a letter, or something.”

Thea managed another small smile. “It is alright, Catkin. You seem to have done the impossible, and I am proud of you. I simply wish we had not found ourselves in the current situation. For many reasons.”

Cat sighed quietly. She knew that Thea had to have been aware of what was happening: she had always had more of a mind for politics than even Cat had, but she also knew that her cousin had a blind spot when it came to Loghain Mac Tir. It must have been devastating for her to watch the man she had first admired as a hero, then, over the past two years, as something more, had fallen so very far. “Why don’t you come meet the others?” She offered gently, “I have talked about you so much they probably will recognize you on sight, but I am sure they would love you.”

“Somehow, I am not so certain,” Thea replied drily, and Cat winced. She loved her cousin, but the woman had a temper. A brilliant mind and a quick tongue had gotten her into trouble more than once, and she had always been just a bit too old for her age; a bit too sharp around the edges. It had been easier for Thea to hide in the castle library or ride her horse out to the farthest reaches of the highlands towards the sea rather than try and make friends with the Keep’s other children. Cat and Nathaniel had been the only ones she had really gotten along with. Bryce and Eleanor had been secretly dreading the day when the marriage proposals started coming in: they had promised Thea that she would not have to marry anyone she did not choose to, but more than one potential suitor had been sent away from Castle Highever with his pride in tatters after being verbally torn to ribbons by Theadosia.

“You might get on with Morrigan, or even Zevran,” she offered, “Although I admit Alistair might be a bit much. He is very sweet, and somehow he has not lost his youthful enthusiasm, despite everything that has happened to him.”

“I suppose we cannot all be so lucky,” Thea’s tone was cool, “Some of us wear our scars a bit more openly. I will not apologize for my bitterness, nor for the grief I feel.”

Cataline reached out and took Thea’s hand in her own, and she could feel the other woman trembling slightly beneath her carefully cultivated stoicism. “Nor would I ask you to, Thea. I would, however, ask you to come with us when we go.” The other woman looked up, unable to conceal her surprise at Cat’s request. “I will need all the help I can get, and you are a gifted fighter.”

“You have plenty of those,” Thea pointed out. “In fact, from what I understand, you have managed to amass the most impressive army Ferelden has seen in ages. I do not see how having one more cranky, sarcastic rogue at your back will make much difference.”

“It will make all the difference to _me_ ,” Cat countered, squeezing Thea’s hand gently. “I need people I trust at my side, and there is no one I trust more than you. Besides,” she grinned, “We need someone else who can cook. If I have to eat Alistair’s ‘lamb’ stew one more time, it may do the archdemon’s work for him.”

Her cousin actually laughed at that. “I will consider it,” she conceded as she stood. “In the meantime, I am sure you have preparations to make. I will find you after the Landsmeet, and we can decide then.” Cataline nodded, following her cousin as she walked towards the estate’s exit. When she reached the door, Thea paused, looking back towards her with an expression that Cat almost could not read.

“Catkin, I know I have no right to ask it of you, not after everything that has been lost, but… but save him, if you can.”

“Thea, I-”

Thea sighed. “I know. And know that I love you, Cat, and I will stand by your side, no matter what. All I ask is that you try.”

 

* * *

 

 

_Save him if you can_.

_There is another option. The teyrn is a warrior and general of renown. Let him be of use. Let him go through the joining._

_Save him if you can._

_We are not judges._

_The joining is often fatal, is it not? If he survives, you gain a general. If not, you have your revenge._

_Save him if you can._

Cataline stared at the man before her, and then she knelt in front of him, forcing him to meet her eyes. When she spoke, her voice was no more than a hoarse whisper, rage coloring every word despite her efforts to the contrary. “Did you know Rendon Howe would murder my parents?”

For a moment, she thought she saw a flash of something that might have been regret pass over the icy blue eyes that held hers. “No, Lady Cousland. I did not.”

“Your daughter is right, you know,” she continued, a hint of spite in her tone. “The joining is often fatal, and those who die do not do so peacefully. Even if you live, it is a dangerous life we have chosen. Sparing you may be no more merciful than a swift death by the sword.”

“I never asked for mercy.”

“You’re right,” Cataline replied softly, standing once more and looking down at him, the sword no longer feeling quite so heavy in her grasp.

“You did not.”

 

* * *

 

 

Cataline could count on one hand the number of times she had even been tempted to get drunk, and could recall only one time she actually had. Today could, without question, now be counted amongst those times she was sorely tempted to sink deep into a bottle and never crawl back out. They would be returning to Redcliffe in the morning; it was where the army was amassing, as Denerim had been considered too politically charged to gather in. That and, as Cat had realized grimly, better to make a target of Redcliffe rather than the capitol if the darkspawn were going to choose a target. For now, however, they were spending one final night in Arl Eamon’s Denerim estate. It was to his credit that, even after the way events unfolded at the Landsmeet, he had insisted they were still welcome in his home.

She took a long drink from the bottle of whiskey in her hand.

Awhile ago she had heard Wynne and Theadosia arguing vehemently outside her door: she had known from the start that those two would have issues. Thea disapproved of the circles as they existed in their current state, while Wynne was staunchly pro-circle, but Cat also knew that was not what had caused the shouting match. They blamed Thea: and maybe in part they were right to do so. Ultimately, however, the choice had always been hers. History and the Maker would judge her actions as right or not. In the meantime, her friends all seemed intent on making their opinions known as well. Thea had been acting as gatekeeper all evening, which was probably doing nothing to endear her further to Cat’s companions, and they both knew it. Still, Cat appreciated the sacrifice. If anyone could handle it, it was her cousin.

Another long drink, and she could feel the warmth of the whiskey spreading through her body, touching her bones.

Finally, after what felt like hours, the door to her room quietly opened and Thea stepped in, the storm in her eyes having died down and exhaustion creeping in to take its place. She sat beside her, accepting the bottle and taking a long drag herself before handing it back. Neither one of them said anything at first, instead just staring into the fire. To Cat’s surprise, Thea was the first one to break the silence.

“Thank you. I know you did not do it for me, but still. Thank you.”

Cat sighed. “I did what I thought was right, Thea. The fact that it aligned with what you wanted made it a tiny bit easier, but you are correct: I did not do it solely for you. To my mind, Riordan made a good point: we needed more wardens, and Loghain is an accomplished soldier and a brilliant general. Of course,” she laughed bitterly, “Alistair hared off, so I suppose we broke even on warden numbers, didn’t we?”

There was a brief flash of guilt that passed over her cousin’s face. “He will come back, Cat. Maybe we will still be alive to see him when he does. I… I have opinions, about his behavior back there, but I realize this is not the time.”

“Thank you,” Cat replied listlessly. She’d liked Alistair. The younger warden had quickly become a fast friend and she knew that, to his mind, she had betrayed not only him, but the order and Duncan’s memory. Cat was not certain which betrayal had cut him the deepest; was not certain that it mattered at the end of the day.

“Catkin?” Thea reached out and took her hand. “I am not convinced it would be a good idea for me to come with you. At least, not directly. I can follow on my own, and I will still be nearby if you need me, but I do not think your other companions would much appreciate my presence amongst your little party.”

This prompted a sharp bark of laughter that Cat almost did not recognize as her own. “I do not believe they will much appreciate _my_ presence anymore either, after what I did today. No, Thea, I think I will need you at my side now more than ever.”

Thea gave her hand a gentle squeeze, then stood and smoothed the creases from her dress. She bent and pressed a long kiss to Cat’s forehead. “I am going to go make my own preparations, then. I assume we are leaving early?”

“At first light,” Cat nodded. “I just want to get out of this void forsaken city and back into the wilds. I think that would be best for everyone at this point.”

“Yes, I suspect you are right. Until tomorrow then, Catkin. First light.” Thea moved silently to the door. When she opened it, Cat heard her exchange a few quiet words with someone, and then the door shut. She was not terribly surprised when Loghain Mac Tir took Thea’s place beside her, although he did not say anything at first. After taking another long drink, she offered him the bottle just as she had offered it to her cousin and, after a moment’s hesitation, he accepted.

“ _Why?_ ”

It was the question she had known would come eventually. It was the question she had spent all afternoon and evening trying to answer, and she was still not sure if she had come up with a satisfactory answer. There had been one, brief moment at the Landsmeet when everything had been clear, but that moment had long since passed. Now, she was alone with the consequences. Literally.

“Does it matter?” Cat was surprised at the unfamiliar bitterness in her tone. “It is done. You survived the Joining, and you are going to help me defeat the Archdemon. Such is the price of your life.”

“It seems you paid too much.” He replied drily. “Since your… friend… saw fit to abandon you for your trouble.”

“Alistair made a choice, as did I,” she shot back. “And I would make the same choice again, even knowing he would leave. I did what I thought was right, Loghain. The wardens are supposed to be about redemption and second chances and atonement, something that I hope Alistair remembers someday.” Cat paused, the fire draining from her body as exhaustion settled in its stead. “And I had no desire to make Anora go through what I did. I lost my father and my mother, and it nearly destroyed me. Howe is damned lucky I got to him first: at least I gave him a quick death. I suspect Thea would have made him suffer.”

Loghain raised an eyebrow in her direction in silent question, and she managed a wry smile. “The woman acting as doorkeeper, she is my cousin. Theadosia Trevelyan.”

“ _That_ was Theadosia?”

Cat nodded. “It was, although I imagine she has changed somewhat from the last time you saw her,” she added drily.

“She seems… calmer, in any case,” Loghain remarked. “The last time I spoke with her had to have been at least two years ago, and it ended in an argument that had half the castle on edge.”

“Don’t be fooled: Thea is twice as dangerous now that she’s figured out how to use her words as weapons, and her smile can be the sharpest blade of them all. And really, you should be flattered: she only argues with those she thinks are worth the effort. If she had thought you simple or dull she would not have bothered.” Cat took another long drink before passing the bottle back over. “She… admires you a great deal, Loghain. It has not been easy for her to watch you throw yourself headlong into one bad decision after another over the past year.”

They both fell silent then, lost in thoughts neither were inclined to share. Finally, Loghain stood and, though he did not meet her eyes, Cataline could hear the sincerity in his tone.

“While I am still not certain I should be thanking you for my life for its own sake, I thank you for the mercy you have shown my daughter. She deserved a better father than I.”

With that, he left, and Cataline was once again left alone with her conscience.

 

* * *

 

 

The dawn came too soon, and with it, his first tentative steps into his new reality. Loghain had arrived at the designated meeting spot earlier than the rest; it was not as though he had been able to get much sleep anyways. He had said his goodbyes to Anora, packed up the few belongings he deemed worth carrying with him, then slipped away before anyone could take much notice of him.

As the others arrived, they studiously ignored his presence save for a seething glare from the elder mage and an openly curious glance from the Orlesian bard. The Warden herself managed a small polite smile in his direction, but said nothing, instead speaking a few hushed words to Wynne until the other woman gave a short huff and ceased her staring at him. Cataline checked the saddle of her horse and gave the animal an affectionate pat on the nose before turning in the direction of the city and offering a tired smile.

When Loghain turned in the direction the Warden was facing, he was surprised to find another woman approaching their party leading a horse the color of spun gold. She had the hood of her cloak pulled up around her face, but when she reached them she delicately slipped it back to reveal auburn hair that had been neatly braided and pinned up for traveling, and eyes that echoed the sea during a storm. Cataline and her cousin exchanged a few quiet words before the latter swung up easily into the saddle and nudged her horse forward. When she had drawn even with him, she gave Loghain a brief nod and, despite his better judgement, he found himself speaking the first words he had all morning.

“I did not realize you would be joining us, Lady Trevelyan.”

“Is that a problem, Warden Mac Tir?”

He shook his head. “Not at all. Though I very much doubt my opinion would much matter even if I felt otherwise.”

Something that might have been a smile twitched at the corner of her lips. “Not in the slightest,” she agreed, “So I suggest you resign yourself to my presence. I will try to see that it will not be too great a hardship.”

“I hardly see how your presence would ever be considered a hardship, my lady.”

Theadosia did smile a little then; a half smile that seemed to promise something far more than what it offered, and her eyes seemed to shine with just the faintest trace of amusement. “Give it time, Warden. Give it time.”

 

 


	2. Loyalty

_In the age of confusion_  
_Tears and despair_  
_Let me sell you a dream of prosperity_  
_In this great illusion_  
_Our humble intentions are well concealed._

 

-“Under Grey Skies” by Kamelot

 

* * *

 

 

Loghain was oddly at peace.

Despite the occasional skirmishes with the darkspawn on the road and the sideways glances of his traveling companions, he had found a resigned acceptance of his own fate. He knew damn well he was probably being led to his death as surely as if the Warden had taken his head after the Landsmeet, but at least this way he would have some small chance to do something right along the way. There would be no forgiveness; no atonement for what he had done. There could never be. That did not mean he would not try to make something better of himself than what he had become.

Besides, there was a stillness to his life now that had been absent for years. The others largely left him alone except for the occasional cutting remarks from Wynne or Oghren, and that suited him fine. The witch seemed to think his presence was an improvement over Alistair, and the assassin did not seem to care much either way. He was loyal to the Warden, and took his cues from her. And if the qunari or the golem had opinions, they were not inclined to share them. When they traveled, Loghain rode at the back of the group. To his mild surprise, Theadosia often rode beside him, although she was graceful enough to not try and force conversation. Occasionally he would hear her humming quietly to herself, but the one time he had happened to glance over at her while she was doing so she had quickly stopped. He found he missed the sound.

They had been on the road for nearly a week when Loghain finally spoke again. Theadosia was, as usual, riding at his side and keeping her own counsel. “How did you come to find yourself in this mess, Lady Trevelyan? Surely the blight has not yet reached Ostwick.”

“Oh, please do not call me that,” she sighed. “My sister is Lady Trevelyan. I am a second daughter and a stunning disappointment. Theadosia is fine, or Thea. Cat calls me Teddy, but she is the only one who can get away with it except for… except for my best friend who I have not seen in some time.”

“Alright, Theadosia,” he amended, “I apologize.”

She gave him a small smile. “No, it is quite alright. I fear you will have a great many apologies to make in the years to come, assuming any of us survive this, so no point in wasting them on me because I am prickly about my name. Let’s see… you asked why I am here? Several reasons, I suppose,” she tilted her head thoughtfully. “The most obvious is that if the blight is not ended here it will inevitably spread. Ostwick will be little safer than anywhere else at that point. Second, Ostwick has not been my home for many years. I was raised at Highever by my aunt and uncle, and had Cataline not killed Rendon Howe I was fully prepared to do so myself. That is, in fact, how I ended up in Denerim in the first place. Third, and perhaps most importantly, Cat needs me here. She is for all intents and purposes my sister rather than my cousin, and one of the only two people I have ever been able to truly trust. The other was sent to the Marches years ago by his parents. I am not sure where he is now and, quite honestly, I am not exactly sure if he would still be speaking to me even if we did see each other again.”

“Oh?” Loghain asked, annoyed at his own curiosity.

Theadosia gave him a slight smile. “Rendon’s eldest son. Nathaniel. I mentioned my best friend? That was him, and Cat…” She sighed. “I will simply say that she has suffered for his absence even more than me. I do not envy their reunion, should it happen. Yet another reason I wish it had been I that took Rendon’s life instead of Cataline. I would bear no regret for his death.”

Loghain was not certain how to respond. Throwing his lot in with Howe had been perhaps one of the worst decisions he had made in this whole mess, and he still remembered the way his blood had run cold when he’d learned of what the other man had done to the Couslands. It had been too late to turn back at that point, but it had taken all his resolve to face the broken and bitter eyes of their daughter when she arrived at Ostagar. He had not been sorry to learn of his former ally’s death, especially after the man had had the gall to abduct Anora. Fortunately, Theadosia did not seem to expect any sort of response, instead falling back into the silence that had served them well enough.

When they stopped to make camp for the night, he dismounted and, without really thinking about what he was doing, held a hand up to Theadosia to assist her. It was an automatic gesture, really: his mother had raised him with good manners and Loghain had had more than one occasion to silently thank her for her teachings as he learned to navigate the societal conventions of life at court. Still, he was slightly startled when Theadosia slipped her delicate hand into his and allowed him to help her down, thanking him with a small, quiet smile before she turned to begin unpacking her things. Much to his annoyance, when Loghain turned back to his own horse he saw the others staring at him with varying degrees of surprise and displeasure. He simply rolled his eyes and went about setting up his tent away from the rest.

Later that evening, Cataline came and sat beside him. “You must forgive their surprise, Loghain,” she spoke quietly. “My cousin has not said much of anything to any of the rest them since she arrived. I think they are a bit put out that you have not only gotten her to talk, but that she actually allowed you to touch her. That is no small feat.”

“Perhaps if they did not treat her as though she carried the blight itself, she would be more amenable to conversing with them,” he retorted. It had been obvious from the beginning that Theadosia’s presence was only slightly more tolerable than his own, at least to some of the others. She seemed to get on well enough with the witch and the assassin, and Leliana seemed to at least be making an effort, but the rest of them seemed indifferent at best.

Cataline sighed. “Perhaps. I will speak to them. We are in this together, for better or for worse, and it is time they remembered that.”

Loghain shook his head. “Don’t bother, at least not on my account. If you think it will help Lady Trevelyan…” He shrugged.

She gave him a small smile, then stood and returned to the rest of the group, pausing long enough to press a kiss to her cousin’s temple as the latter stood by the fire, cooking dinner. They exchanged a few quiet words and Theadosia glanced briefly back in his direction, her expression unreadable before she simply offered Cataline a shrug and turned her attention back to her cooking.

That evening, when the food had been served and he had taken his customary place back away from the fire and the others, he was only slightly surprised when Theadosia followed. She did not try to engage him in conversation; rather, she simply sat beside him, leaning up against the same rock as she ate. At some point Cataline’s mabari, Brutus, shuffled over and lay down beside him, resting his head on Loghain’s lap and snuffling gratefully when he was slipped a bit of ham. It was quiet, and as the stars rose in the sky he could almost believe he was content with Theadosia and the dog at his side.

“Why do you not shun me as the others do?” He asked her, not certain if he wanted to really know the answer or not. She gazed up at the stars, considering her answer.

“Warden Mac Tir, you are going to be punished for your actions over the past year for the rest of your life, however long that may be. I doubt that one less person making your time in this world unpleasant will make much of a difference, on balance. I know you did what you did out of love for your homeland. Intent does count for something, although it cannot erase your sins. Besides,” she shrugged, “You interest me. Few people do, and now that I actually have an opportunity to speak with you it seems a pity to waste it.”

“I ‘interest’ you?”

A faint smile curved at her lips in the soft light. “Indeed you do.”

“Then I would prefer you use my name,” Loghain replied quietly. “It would be a nice change to hear it spoken without venom for once.”

“I think I can manage that,” Theadosia agreed, her smile widening just a fraction.

 

* * *

 

 

Thea had told Cataline it was a useless detour. Whatever ghosts still lingered at Ostagar, it would have been better to let them rest. But her cousin had made a promise to a dying man, and on Elric’s word they had veered their course south. The extra stop would not add too much time to their journey to Redcliffe, she insisted, and if the documents in King Cailan’s chest at the battle site were as crucial as Elric believed they were, then it would be worth their time.

They were not.

All the documents had proven was that Cailan was even more of a fool than Thea had initially given him credit for, which was saying something. He had been ready to leave Anora in order to enter some sort of alliance with Celene, essentially handing Ferelden back to Orlais. Wynne had argued that this would have resulted in peace; Thea was not convinced. She had not lived through the occupation, but she had studied it at length. There had not been much else for her to do at Highever save for read and train.

Thea had begged Cataline not to take Loghain with her. The memories of that place were unforgiving, and she had known it would not end well, especially since her cousin had also taken Wynne. Had Leliana not been there to intervene, Thea was not certain if everyone would have come back from the ruins alive. As it was, no one was speaking much when they arrived back at camp. At least, not until after the evening meal.

She had just returned from fetching water from the nearby lake so that she could wash the dishes when she caught the argument between Loghain and Wynne. Part of her was surprised it had taken this long: the mage had been needling the man since he had joined their number, and Loghain’s gift for words was nearly as sharp as Thea’s, although he apparently had more patience than she did. He endured Wynne’s spite longer than Thea would have.

“And what of all the soldiers who died with their king? Their lives were worth nothing to you.”

“You think so, do you? I knew their names, mage, and where they came from. I knew their families,” Loghain retorted, his tone low and dangerous. “I do not know how you mages determine the value of things, but they were _my_ men. I know _exactly_ how much I lost that day.”

Before Wynne could come back with another scathing response, Thea stepped between them, facing down the mage. She kept her posture relaxed and her expression schooled into something between amusement and boredom, but she knew her eyes must be sparking with a temper she was only just keeping reined in.

“Enough, Enchanter,” she spoke evenly. “You have said your piece, now stand down.”

“You know nothing of this, young woman,” Wynne snapped. “You show up here, and it is clear to the rest of us whose side you have been on from the beginning. It was not _your_ king who was sacrificed like a lamb at the slaughter.”

“Not technically speaking, no,” Thea agreed. No point arguing what was relatively true. “I suppose I cannot shed my nationality any more than you can shed your stunning ability to nag.”

Wynne looked as though she desperately wanted to slap Thea which, she had to admit, was probably warranted. “Just because _I_ remember what loyalty means-”

“You are loyal to my cousin, yes?”

Wynne stared at her for a moment before nodding slowly. “Yes. I am loyal to Cataline. She is a good woman, and stronger than any of us could have foreseen. Furthermore, she is a good leader and a better friend. I will do anything in my power to help her succeed, and to make her burdens lighter.”

“Of course you will,” Thea raised her eyebrows. “So tell me: just how helpful do you think you are being, constantly calling into question her decision to spare this man’s life? To give him a second chance at redemption? Are you the Maker now, that you can so easily decide who is and is not worthy of mercy?”

“You presume too much, Lady Trevelyan,” Wynne’s eyes narrowed. “You were not there at Ostagar, and you were not there at Kinloch Hold. Had you been raised in the Circle-”

“Had I been raised in the Circle, my manners would probably be no better than yours.”

“ _Theadosia Livia Trevelyan_.”

Thea sighed. _Shit_. The middle name was never good; the full name was worse. She turned to face her cousin, chin held high, displaying more confidence than she truly felt in that moment. Cat’s eyes were burning and her irritation was written plainly on her face. She stalked up until she was face to face with Thea before she spoke in a tone barely above a whisper.

“ _Why_ must you antagonize them?”

Thea threw up her hands. “You know what, Cataline, I do not know. I do not fucking know. I suppose because it is easier to bear their spite when I know I have done something to deserve it.”

Pity replaced anger in Cataline’s eyes as she gave a soft sigh, but Thea had already turned on her heel. Whatever her cousin had to say, she was not interested in hearing it.

 

* * *

 

 

Loghain watched in stunned silence as Theadosia left the camp, storming off in the general direction of the lake. Cataline chased after her, calling her name and begging her to come back. To his great surprise, Wynne actually appeared to be somewhat abashed.

“I should not have snapped at her,” she admitted quietly, although he was not certain to whom she was making her confession. “That woman has walked a more difficult path than most, and it is too easy to forget that she is scarred beneath that pretty face and biting wit.” The enchanter shook her head, then retreated to her tent.

Despite every sane bone in his body screaming at him to stay put, Loghain stood and followed in the general direction Theadosia and Cataline had taken. He hesitated when he heard their voices, one pleading and one stubbornly resolute.

“Thea, please…”

“Cataline, I am not going to stand for it anymore. Loghain is going to be paying for his fuck ups the rest of his damn life, just as he should be, but _you_ made the choice to give him a chance to do something good. And do not try and tell me it is because of me: you know damn well you would have made the same decision even had I not been there, because you know it was the right thing to do. Allowing your ‘friends’ to continue to rub salt in the wound is beneath you and them.”

“I know, Thea,” Cataline sighed. “But you have to understand: the man has been trying to have us killed for the better part of the last year.”

“You _know_ why he distrusted the Wardens,” Theadosia shot back. “Or do I need to remind you of what happened at Kinloch Hold all those years ago?”

“No, I understand _why_ , but that does not justify what has happened.”

“Perhaps not,” Theadosia agreed, “But if you only spared his life in order to allow yourself and the others an opportunity to grind him further into the ground every chance you get, then I have clearly held all of you in too high regards.”

“Thea, they have a right to be angry,” Cat countered, her voice rising, “We all do. And you have no place telling us we do not. You cannot keep picking fights! You-” Loghain heard the Warden’s voice stop short. “Maker’s breath… you are trying to redirect their ire. You are trying to distract them from attacking him, so you are making yourself a target.”

“I do not give a damn if they hate me,” Theadosia replied quietly. “I am used to being alone; you know that. Growing up it was just you, and Nathaniel when he would come round. Even Margot barely recognized me when I returned to help her settle Mother and Father’s estate,” she laughed drily. “She said I seemed more sure of myself, but so much more detached. I suppose she was right. Catkin, I can do little else for that man, but if I can make this journey just a little less unbearable, then I intend to do it.”

Loghain heard Cataline sigh heavily. “I will speak to the others. You are right: I made the choice to spare his life, and I did not do so just so we would have an opportunity to vent our ire or our frustrations. He was a good man, once. Perhaps he can be again, if we can give him the chance.” The Warden paused, then asked, “Does he know? About how you feel?”

There was a long span of silence. “Of course not,” Theadosia finally replied. “He does not need me making his life more difficult.”

“Will you come back to the camp, Thea? Please?”

“Eventually. I… I need some time to think.”

“Alright,” he heard Cataline step away, and he sank back into the shadows as she passed. When he was certain she was gone, Loghain walked in the direction that he had heard their voices and found Theadosia sitting on a log at the edge of the lake, listlessly tossing rocks into the placid, inky depths. Without speaking, he sat beside her.

“So,” she asked, her voice oddly calm. “How much of that did you hear?”

“Enough,” he admitted, “Although I still do not understand why you seem intent on throwing yourself on a proverbial sword for me.”

She shrugged. “Does it matter?”

“It does to me.”

Theadosia managed a small smile. “Perhaps I am simply a bad person who enjoys needling the others for my own amusement?”

“I suppose that is possible,” Loghain raised an eyebrow in her direction, “Although it seems unlikely, since I would be a far easier target and would earn you far more approval rather than displeasure at their hands.”

“Maybe I like the challenge,” she replied. “Besides, they were never going to like me much. I am an interloper, so far as they’re concerned. Never mind that Cataline and I were practically raised as sisters.”

“I still see no reason as to why that should mean they would not like you. I have only known you well for a few weeks and I-” Loghain stopped short when he realized he was not entirely certain how he wanted to finish that statement. His time with Theadosia had been the most pleasant he’d had in years, and when he was with her, he could almost forget the crushing weight of the rest of his reality. Finally, he said, “I thought I wanted to die, Theadosia. I thought that, when I faced your cousin in the Landsmeet, it was finally going to be over. Then, not only did she refuse to take my life as payment for my crimes, I even managed to survive the Joining. Being with you… I don’t know. Perhaps this is the first time in years I have thought that perhaps my life might have some value after all.”

Theadosia did not say anything, but she did tentatively reach out a hand and wrap it around his own, squeezing gently, and Loghain found he was grateful for the gesture. “Theadosia, you are intelligent and clever and, though you may try to convince everyone else otherwise, I know you have a good heart. Otherwise, you would not be here right now, trying to comfort a man who is little more than a monster. _That_ is why they ought to like you.”

“I do not see you as a monster,” she murmured, her voice surprisingly soft.

“Yes, Cataline said much the same thing, although I suspect you both may simply be trying to spare my feelings,” he noted drily, and she laughed. “Your mistake, of course, being your assumption that I have any feelings left at all.”

“Oh, I don’t know,” Theadosia shrugged, “I am certain if we poked around a bit we may be able to find _something_.”

They sat there, gazing up at the stars, her hand still holding his. Loghain was reluctant to break the peace of the moment, but he had to ask.

“Theadosia?”

“Yes?”

He hesitated, then asked, “Why did your cousin ask you if you had told me?”

Theadosia’s breath caught for a fraction of a moment, but she kept her voice even. “Told you about what, exactly?”

“About how you feel.”

She was silent for a moment, her eyes dropping to the ground and her brow furrowing slightly. “I suppose you will have to be more specific,” she replied carefully. “I have a lot of feelings these days, most of which have proven to be an inconvenience more than anything else. I am afraid of the battle I know we have to fight, and I am heartbroken that Cataline has had to bear so much responsibility along with the weight of her grief. I am angry that my adopted homeland has been torn apart by both darkspawn and civil war, but I am glad to know that Howe is dead. I mourn for my aunt and uncle and worry for Fergus.”

“As impressive as that array is, somehow I do not think any of those are what Cataline was referring to. Why do you think you could possibly make my life more difficult than I have already managed to on my own?”

“It’s what I do, Loghain,” she smiled wryly. “I make people’s lives more difficult. I have a bit of a talent for it, really.”

Loghain took a deep breath. “You are avoiding the question. Do you have such a talent for evasion as well?”

“Perhaps,” Theadosia sighed. “You asked why I defend you? Perhaps it is because I enjoy your company. I like having you around. It is rare that I meet someone who does not look at me and see the ‘spare’ Trevelyan sister, but rather a person in my own right. I like that I can have intelligent conversations with you, and you are not put off by my sharpness. If allowing the rest of Cataline’s companions to focus their anger and frustration on me spares you from it and keeps you around, then it is a small enough price to pay.”

“Theadosia, I swore an oath,” Loghain pointed out quietly. “I will see this fight through to the end, or so long as I survive. I gave my word to your cousin.”

She managed a small, wry smile. “Well, I suppose I should at least be grateful for that, then.” She stood, arching her back as she stretched. “I should go back. Maybe Cat will have had a chance to talk the others down enough that they will not try to skewer me on sight.”

“Theadosia?”

She turned to face him, her normally stormy eyes glittering softly in the reflected starlight. He stood and took a step closer to her.

“My promise to Cataline is not the _only_ reason I stay.”

Theadosia seemed to consider this for a moment then, with small, tentative steps she approached until she was very nearly in his arms, and Loghain found himself wishing she was; a realization that startled him more than he cared to admit. She arched up onto her toes, and her lips brushed a soft, lingering kiss against his cheek. Then, without another word, she turned and began making her way back to camp. He sighed and shook his head.

_This can’t end well_.

 

 


	3. Promise

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is NSFW.

_When I drown in my fears_  
_In the darkness of sorrow_  
_There’s a promise of grace_  
_Under silver grey skies._

-“Under Grey Skies” by Kamelot

 

* * *

 

 

Cataline had warned him about the dreams: the echoes of the archdemon’s call that would claw at the darkspawn blood in his veins. Loghain should have told her not to worry. He had been living with nightmares for years.

Actually, that was not strictly true: there had been a few brief, peaceful years between the time Anora had married Cailan and when Celia had died. He had mostly stayed in Gwaren, then, visiting the capitol only rarely and when absolutely necessary. Once Celia had died, however, there had been very little to keep him in the teyrnir. Too many reminders of a life he had left behind long, long ago.

Now, the nightmares were back, each one an echo of a life he had not been able to save: his father, Rendorn Guerrin, Rowan, Maric… even Cailan, fool that he was. Despite what everyone else may have thought, he regretted the way the Battle at Ostagar had ended. Loghain had practically helped raise Cailan from the time he was just a boy, and if nothing else, he was the son of his best friend. But Maric had made him swear after the disastrous battle of West Hill that never again was he to put one life over the lives of the many, and Loghain had begrudgingly made that promise.

For all the good it had done any of them.

The dreams had been particularly bad tonight, and he had already woken up twice, but this time he could not seem to shake the relentless pull of the fade as it drug him down into the worst parts of his memory, taunting him with every possible outcome that _didn’t_ result in the death of the people he loved. He could feel his chest tightening with the screams he could not voice, and his blood burned with rage and frustration. Loghain tried to will himself awake; tried to shut out the worst of it…

“Loghain. Loghain, wake up.”

He frowned slightly, the low, soothing voice reaching him even through the nightmare, gentle tones wrapping around his mind and disentangling him from the fade. Loghain opened his eyes to the darkness of his tent, the dim embers of the distant campfire casting only the faintest glow. He could feel a delicate hand at his cheek; a thumb running carefully over his cheekbone and the faint scent of lavender chasing the last tremors of his dreams away.

“Hush, Loghain… it’s alright…”

“Theadosia,” he whispered, his eyes adjusting to the darkness. Even in the scant light he could see the worry reflected in her eyes. “I apologize, I did not mean to wake you…”

“You didn’t,” she gave him a small, wry smile. “You have your tent set up so far from the rest I doubt anyone else would have heard you even if they were awake. You were just muttering, nothing more, but you sounded…” Theadosia hesitated, reaching up and brushing a lock of her auburn hair away from her face. “You did not sound as though your dreams were pleasant, in any case. I couldn’t sleep, and I was taking a walk to clear my head when I heard you. I should probably be apologizing to you, actually. It must have been a bit of a shock to wake up with a strange woman in your tent.”

“You are not _that_ strange,” he retorted, rolling onto his side and propping himself up on one elbow. She laughed quietly as she drew her hand back away from his face. Loghain found that he missed her touch.

“Relative strangeness aside, I should not have intruded. Had it been Zevran I certainly wouldn’t have: rumor has it he sleeps completely naked, and he would have _definitely_ gotten the wrong idea.”

“And what makes you so certain I don’t?” He teased her, then immediately wished he could take it back when he heard her breath catch. But when she finally spoke, what she said was not what he expected.

“And what makes you so certain I would mind?”

“I- _oh_.” He looked up at her, but she had turned her face away, the fall of her hair covering her expression.

“Well, I should… I should probably let you try and get back to sleep,” she murmured, and Loghain suspected that had he been able to see her properly, she would have been blushing. “And I am certain there is probably something useful I could be doing, since I can’t sleep.” She shifted to move towards the entrance of the tent, but he caught her hand in his.

“Theadosia… stay with me.”

In the stillness of the night, he could hear the subtle change in her breathing; could practically hear her heartbeat. Without a word, she moved back towards him, tugging off her boots and socks and setting them neatly aside. Her shirt followed, then the soft leather pants, until she was in nothing but her small clothes. Still remaining silent, she carefully slipped beneath the blankets, and he moved to wrap his arm around her waist almost by instinct, pulling her closer until her head was nuzzled up against his shoulder and he could feel the warmth of her breath fan out over his chest.

“Maker’s breath, woman,” he murmured against the top of her head, “Are you always this cold?”

She laughed quietly. “No, not quite. I do tend to run colder than most, but I have been outside for awhile, and not moving briskly enough to make the difference. Would you prefer if I rolled over a bit?”

“No,” he pulled her closer, running his hand up and down the length of her spine. “I would prefer you stay exactly where you are. Although I feel it only fair to warn you that I doubt the rest of our traveling companions will much approve if they catch you in here.”

“And I very much doubt I give a damn,” she retorted. “Loghain, you… you have to have realized how I feel about you.”

“Well, if I hadn’t, I suspect any doubts I had would have disappeared by now. I admit to a certain confusion as to _why_ you care, but… but I am not displeased that you do.”

Theadosia was quiet for a moment, her thumb running a soft path along his skin where her hand rested against his back. “Loghain, I love you because I remember the man you were. I know you did what you did with good intentions, although I cannot say those intentions absolve you of your sins. I love you because despite everything you have done wrong, I see the potential within you to do something right. I see the man you could still be.”

Loghain’s arms tightened around her. “You love me?”

“I do.”

“Are you insane?” He whispered, still not letting her go, and he felt her lips curve up in a smile against his chest.

“Oh absolutely, darling, though not when it comes to this.” She shifted away from him just enough so that she could look up, and her eyes met his. “And I’m guessing that, since you have not yet kicked me out of your bedroll, you have at least a passing interest in me as well.”

“Yes, I suppose I do,” he shook his head, but for the first time in ages he could feel a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. “I did not expect to ever fall in love again, Theadosia.”

She reached up and cupped his cheek in her hand. “I did not expect to ever fall in love at all, so you are still ahead of me,” she replied. “Now, are you going to kiss me, or will I have to come up with some other clever way to convince you?”

“Theadosia, if you will allow it, I intend to do far more than just kiss you.”

“I was hoping you felt that way,” she whispered, her arms twining around his neck as he leaned down, his lips meeting hers. There was no hesitance in her kiss; no uncertainty. Instead there was only warmth and want and an impossible sense of belonging: he felt as though he _belonged_ in her arms, that his soul, or whatever was left of it, somehow belonged to her. Despite the rapidly disappearing chill in her skin, her mouth was warm, and she tasted faintly of honey and mint. With hands that were far too clever, she somehow managed to remove what little clothing remained on her body while never once breaking their kiss. Theadosia’s breath caught when he pulled her closer, biting back a small moan as he began tracing a line down her cheek to her jaw to the elegant arch of her neck, each kiss a plea and a promise.

“You are so beautiful,” he whispered against her shoulder, hands running along curves that he had not realized he already knew; had already dreamed of more times than he would have ever been able to admit.

“You know, the way you say it, I can actually believe it,” she murmured in reply, her own hands moving down his waist and pushing his clothes down over his hips.

“There is no scenario in which you cannot possibly know how impossibly beautiful you are,” Loghain retorted quietly, kissing a path down between her breasts before brushing his lips against the tender skin of one, tongue and teeth teasing against the hard peak and prompting a long, low moan from the woman beneath him.

He felt her fingers run gently through his hair. “Plenty of them, actually. I have also been told I am difficult, stubborn, antagonistic, and impossible.” Her voice caught on the last word as his other hand moved to the breast his mouth was not currently focused on and his fingers tweaked her nipple.

“You are beautiful, Theadosia,” he whispered against her skin. “You are beautiful, and fierce, and fearless, and yes, you are impossible. And I love you.”

“Andraste take me, but I love you too,” Theadosia pulled him back up towards her, claiming his lips with her own and wrapping her arms around him tightly. “I love you, Loghain.” The words were low and fierce and true, and they branded his soul as surely as her lips marked his skin. She pressed her hands against his shoulders, rolling him onto his back and gracefully straddling his hips. Leaning down, she pressed her lips to his cheek briefly before speaking softly in his ear.

“Are you certain this is what you want?”

“Theadosia,” he ran a gentle hand along her spine, “I want _you_. For however much time I have left in this world, I want to spend it with you.”

In the flickering shadows, he could see her smile. “Loghain Mac Tir, you have me. For whatever time _either_ of us has left in this world, you have me, and you have my heart.”

“As you have mine,” he promised, holding her close against his chest for a brief moment before she shifted, pressing her hips lower until he could feel her heat teasing against his cock. She lowered herself onto him, her breath hitching slightly when he had entered her fully, and for a moment Loghain was not certain he could breathe for the sensation of her body joined with his and the way it threatened to overwhelm him. When Theadosia slowly began to roll her hips against his, he let his head fall back with a low groan.

Loghain’s hands came to rest of Thea’s hips, holding her gently as she rocked a steady rhythm against his body. He could hear the subtle change in her breathing; felt her hand slip between her thighs to tease against her clit before he gently set it aside to brush his own thumb against the impossibly sensitive nerves. There was a slight tremble in the moan that escaped her lips, and her movements sped up just slightly as he experimented with pressure and position until he found the exact spot that made her entire body buckle slightly. He rolled her onto her back, cradling her carefully in his arms as he felt her peak hit and her entire core contract around him, pulling him down over the edge with her.

He lay down beside her, pulling her close as they both inhaled deeply, trying to steady heartbeats and breaths by drinking in the cool night air. Theadosia nuzzled her head against his shoulder, pressing haphazard kisses against his skin and slowly rubbing his back. “Well if she was not already planning on feeding me to the Archdemon, your cousin is definitely going to do so now,” he murmured against her head.

She laughed quietly. “She will not. If you think for one moment that I am going to let you profess your love to me and then go throw yourself headlong in front of a blighted dragon, you are very much mistaken.” She sighed. “It will be what it will be, Loghain, but I hope you will put enough value on your life, and on my heart, that you will not needlessly throw your life away should the opportunity arise.”

“Theadosia, I swear that I will do my best to live through this, but if a choice has to be made…”

“I know,” she whispered, and she pressed her body a little closer to his, wrapping her arms around him more tightly. “But… please try. I love you, Loghain.”

“I love you, Theadosia.”

 

* * *

 

 

Cataline took a deep breath, her hand hovering just over the door to Loghain’s room in Redcliffe Castle. Morrigan’s offer still rang in her ears: convince Loghain to lie with her tonight, and give her a child, and no warden would have to die in order to kill the Archdemon. Of course, that still did not guarantee they would not be killed by any of the other thousands of darkspawn, but it would no longer be a certain death sentence. It seemed like a small price to pay, really…

She just hoped she could convince Loghain and Theadosia of that.

They had been good for each other: anyone with eyes could see that. Cataline had been fully aware of when they had started sharing a tent at night, and ever since they had been together they had both been happier. She had even caught Thea singing along quietly with one of Leliana’s songs at camp one night before she could stop herself, and Leliana had been so pleased she had practically been beside herself. When her cousin had drunk Oghren under the table on another night, she had earned the glowing admiration of the dwarf, and even Wynne had begrudgingly admitted that she may have been wrong. About both of them. When Thea had been doing her best to stitch up a nasty cut on Loghain’s arm after an unexpected fight with a drake, Wynne had rolled her eyes and taken the needle from her, channeling enough healing magic to dull the pain as she deftly closed the wound, and then sealed it against infection. They had both thanked the mage quietly, and Wynne had managed a small smile.

Cataline had actually been starting to hope that maybe, not only would they survive this crisis, but they may actually be able to build a life afterwards. Then Riordan had dropped his news on them: in order for the Archdemon to die, a warden must die with it. The gentle-spoken warden had pointed out that, when the time came, it should be him to take the final blow as he was the eldest and the tainted blood would not spare him much longer. But there could be no assurances that he would be able to make the final blow. And Cataline knew damn well who would make the sacrifice if Riordan fell.

But then Morrigan had been waiting in her room, and she had offered a way out: a dark ritual that practically screamed blood magic, and yet… Morrigan had made her case well, and Cataline trusted the erstwhile apostate. They had become friends somehow, despite the improbability of it all, and Cat believed Morrigan when she said she did not want anyone to have to die. Whatever her other motivations might have been, her words had the ring of truth to them when she had made that assurance.

Cat’s hand fell heavy against the solid wooden door and, despite the late hour, she was not surprised when Loghain answered. She was even less surprised to find Thea with him, her eyes red and slightly swollen as though she had been crying not too long before. Cat took a deep breath, then repeated the proposal Morrigan had made. When she finished, she finally found the courage to face first Loghain, and then Thea. She could not decide which was the more difficult.

Thea was trembling; Cat could see it even from where she stood. But in the storm of her eyes there was the faintest spark of hope where before there had only been grief. Loghain, however, was the first to break the silence.

“Are you ordering me to do this, Cataline?”

It was the first time he had called her by her name rather than by her title. She shook her head slowly. “No, Loghain, I am not. You have become my friend, over these past weeks, as impossible as that seems. I do not want you to die. I do not want to lose my friend, and I do not want my cousin to lose the man she loves so fiercely. But I will not force you to do this, and this is not an order. It is a choice that I am offering you as your leader, and a plea that I am making as your friend.”

She watched as he looked to Thea; saw the silent entreaty in the other woman’s eyes as she stood and let him take her in his arms, pressing a kiss to the top of her head. Thea whispered something that Cataline could not hear, and that she knew she was not meant to. Loghain looked back at her, and she could see the resignation in his eyes even as he held Thea against his chest.

“Let us go speak with the witch.”

 

* * *

 

 

The halls were empty and quiet as he slipped out of the room. The witch had at least consented to wait until the dead of night, to better preserve what dignity he had left. Loghain had informed the witch that he would close his eyes and picture his dead wife while she exacted the price she had demanded for saving the lives of the wardens, but they had both known that had been a lie: instead, it was the defiant gaze of storm blue eyes that burned in his mind, a soft tumble of hair the color of autumn, and lips that always teased on the edge of a smile rarely seen.

She was still awake when he returned, not that he was surprised. Theadosia stood when he entered, her delicate hands clasped neatly at her waist and her eyes searching his for some reassurance he desperately wanted to give her. She nodded her head in the direction of the bath, which he saw had been recently filled with water that still sent lingering tendrils of steam into the air. “I thought you might… if you don’t need it, I do,” she finally exhaled.

“Theadosia,” he held his arms out to her, and she buried his face against his chest, a soft sob escaping from her throat. “I am so sorry, Theadosia…”

“Please, don’t,” she whispered. “It had to be done, Loghain. If there is even a whisper of a chance that this will save you and Cataline, then it had to be done.”

He sighed, gently stroking her hair as he held her close. Loghain was still not certain if it _would_ save them; they were all at the mercy of not only the witch’s dark magic, but their own chances against the darkspawn horde. What he was certain of was that none of that mattered tonight. Tonight, they were alive, and if he _was_ going to die in the next few days, he wanted to do so with the memories of Theadosia in his arms, and the taste of her on his lips.

“Loghain… Stay with me.”

“Always, Sweetheart,” he promised, tilting her chin up so that she was facing him. He leaned down and kissed her, drinking in the taste of her, memorizing every sensation of holding her and simply being with her. With careful hands, he pushed the sleeves of her nightgown down over her shoulders, letting it fall to the floor even as she began undoing the buckles and ties on his own clothes. They slipped into the searing heat of the bath, letting the water wash away the lingering memories of the witch’s body and replacing them with the gentle touches of his Theadosia.

“You realize that I will never be able to look Morrigan in the eye again,” she muttered against his shoulder as she nestled her head against it.

“I am still a little uncertain as to how you were able to do so in the first place. That woman is disconcerting under the best of circumstances,” he retorted before his tone grew quieter. “Are you certain you are alright, Theadosia? You know there is still a high likelihood that one or both of us could still die for this?”

“Yes, Loghain, I am alright,” she sighed. “Even though I spent the entire time you were in there with that woman trying not to scream; trying to stop myself from breaking into that room and tearing her off of you. And you are right: there is still the chance that any of us could die in the upcoming battle: you, me, Cat… any of us. But I trust Morrigan: if she says this… ritual… will at least save you both from losing your soul to the Archdemon, then I believe her. I only hope that, for you, it will be worth the price you had to pay.”

“I thought of you,” he whispered against her hair, exhaling slowly as her lips traced the arch of his neck and the line of his jaw. “The only thing that made it bearable was the thought of you, and the way you feel in my arms every night as we fall asleep, and the hope that by doing this we would have many more of those nights yet to come.”

Theadosia kissed him then, long and soft and deep, until the water began to cool against their skin and he finally offered a hand to lift her from the bath. They dried their bodies, then fell into bed and into each other’s arms without bothering to dress. And that night, perhaps for the last time, their dreams were quiet.

 

* * *

 

 

Denerim burned.

Thea could smell the carnage long before she could see it; the heavy scents of ash and char and darkspawn creating a grim miasma that shrouded the city. She rode at Loghain’s side, slightly behind Cataline and Anora. If the queen had made any assumptions about who she was, or what her relationship with her father was, she had kept them to herself. They all had bigger concerns at the moment.

When they had neared the city gates and the sounds of the fighting grew cacophonous, Thea reached into her pack and pulled out a long silk scarf in her favorite shade of grey. This was probably the single worst possible use for it, but why not? If she died it would not much matter if she had saved it or not. When she wrapped it around her mouth and nose, Loghain raised an eyebrow at her in question.

“Not all of us are so eager to inhale darkspawn blood as you or my cousin,” she replied drily, her voice slightly muffled by the layers of cloth.

“I cannot say I recommend it,” he agreed, managing a small smile. “Besides, it is a nice color on you. It sets off your eyes.”

“Well, even darkspawn deserve to have something pleasant to gaze upon before they die, I suppose,” she laughed, but even she could hear the sorrow barely contained behind the sound. When he reached out a hand to her, she took it and held tight as they approached the breach in the gates.

“Stay close to me,” he murmured, letting go of her hand as he drew sword and shield.

“Try to keep up,” she looked at him so that he could see the smile in her eyes, if not on her lips. He just shook his head with a quiet chuckle, and then they joined the fray.

Despite her taunt, Thea did stay close, fighting back to back with Loghain in a form they had been honing over the past few weeks every time they had encountered enemies in the wilds. Sweat dripped into her eyes and the scarf made it difficult to breathe, but she knew damn well it would be a lot harder to breathe if she contracted the darkspawn taint, so she left it be. A hurlock very nearly took her hand at the wrist but instead was knocked sideways by a blow from Loghain, and Thea stabbed her daggers into the creature’s throat with more force that was probably strictly necessary, but she was rather annoyed by its audacity.

She had no idea how long that initial skirmish lasted: all she knew was that, at the end of it, Cataline and her companions were all still standing, as were the better part of the guards they had joined in the fighting. Piles of darkspawn corpses were piled high, and already haphazard pyres were being lit beneath them to clear the filth as quickly as was practical. Thea slipped the silk scarf down over her neck and almost immediately replaced it, so nauseated was she by the smells of blood and death. She took a long drink of water from the flask at her hip before passing it to Loghain, both of them silently assessing the other for injuries.

“I would suggest taking Loghain and no more than two other with you into the city,” Riordan was speaking, his voice weary but with more optimism than perhaps he had a few days prior. “The rest will have to remain to guard the gate.”

“There is no way in the void you are leaving me behind, Cataline Alexandria,” Thea scowled at her cousin, the set of her jaw growing even more stubborn when she saw the look of sadness in the other woman’s violet eyes. “No. I am _not_ staying behind!”

“Thea, you heard what Riordan said,” Cat replied gently, and Thea could hear the regret in her tone even as she rejected it with every fiber of her being. “A smaller group has a better chance of making it to the Archdemon, and I have to take Morrigan and another warrior. I need you to stay and help hold the gates in case… in case something happens to me. I need you to survive.”

“Cat, I would rather die in there with the rest of you then live the rest of my life knowing I let it happen!” Thea was practically screaming now, and even Wynne was looking at her with something akin to pity, but she didn’t care. “You cannot ask me to stay!”

“Then I am ordering it, Theadosia!”

“I am not one of your wardens, Cataline. I will not acquiesce to your demands so easily.”

“Then listen to mine,” Loghain spoke up quietly. Cataline stepped aside, placing a brief hand on his shoulder before sadly shaking her head and going to speak with the others. He took her hands in his, reached up briefly to brush aside a stray lock of auburn that had escaped her braided crown.

“Theadosia… you know I have to do this,” he murmured softly, words meant only for her.

She shook her head. “No. Not alone. I-”

He pressed a kiss to her forehead. “I have to know you are waiting for me, Theadosia. I have precious few reasons left to live in this world: allow me this one.”

Thea sighed, angrily scrubbing at the tears that were streaming down her cheeks. She reached up and flung her arms around his neck, pulling him down into a searing, desperate kiss, clinging to what may well be the last memory she would ever have of him. When they parted, she reached a hand up to his cheek and looked him in the eyes.

“Come back to me, Loghain. I will be waiting for you.”


	4. Sunrise

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Bonus points if you catch the ME: Citadel reference.

_But I’ll die for that someone_  
_In the blink of an eye_  
_So tell me, please tell me_  
_Just what kind of fool am I?_

-“Under Grey Skies” by Kamelot

 

* * *

 

It was surreal: that was the only word Loghain could grasp at to describe the scene around him. Where only moments before they had all been locked in a desperate battle for their survival, there were now wild fits of celebration and exultant cries of joy and victory. He and Sten were propping up Cataline, who was trembling with exhaustion, but alive. They had made it as far as the palace district grounds before they finally collapsed against a crumbling stone wall. A flurry of movement continued unchecked as they sat there, watching on in stunned silence, and no one seemed to pay much mind to the fact they had all been saved by the woman at his side.

To be fair, even Loghain was only tangentially aware of her presence: he would see her safely back to her friends, as he had promised, but his mind was elsewhere. His gaze scanned the crowds, desperately trying to catch a flash of that particular shade of auburn. He felt a gentle nudge in his side, and when he looked down, Cataline was offering him a tired smile.

“Go. I want to know she is alright as well, but I need to rest.”

Loghain hesitated. “Cataline, I promised I would keep you safe. I do not imagine Theadosia will be much pleased if you survived the Archdemon and then were finished off by a stray darkspawn who got lucky.”

She gave a small croak of ash-choked laughter. “I will be fine, Loghain. Sten is more than up to the task of crushing a few more genlock skulls if need be.”

“Very likely,” Sten nodded beside her, and Cataline made a shooing motion with her hand.

“Go. Find her.”

Loghain nodded, giving her a small, grateful squeeze on the shoulder that he knew she would understand more than any words he could say. Then he stood, and began pressing through the chaos towards the city gates, his eyes constantly scanning the crowds for Theadosia.

He had been wandering for some time when he finally made it through the market district and back to the front gates where he had left her. There were too many bodies, darkspawn and ally alike, and he tried to ignore the rising fear in his chest. Then, he saw a scrap of shredded grey silk clinging to the wicked edge of a dead hurlock’s blade. Loghain fell to his knees, his hand shaking as he reached out and retrieved the bit of cloth that he recognized far too easily. Clenching it in his fist, he fought the urge to scream, to storm out of the gates and chase down every last darkspawn in the deep roads until he had killed them all and even then, he knew it would not be enough to avenge what they had taken from him.

It was as if the last bit of light in his life had finally been extinguished. He had known this was a possibility; had known that neither of them might make it out alive, and yet he had dared to hope that…

“Damn it, Wynne, I am fine!”

“Theadosia Livia Trevelyan you are _not_ fine, that arm is broken in at least two places and that ‘scratch,’ as you so laughingly call it, along your jaw is going to leave a nasty scar unless you let me work on it!”

Loghain looked up and there, stalking away from the mage with as much irritation as she could muster with her left arm hanging limp at her side, was his Theadosia. The scarf she’d worn around her face during the battle was missing and there was, in fact, a wicked looking cut running down the left side of her jaw where she had been unable to block a strike, but she was alive, and when her eyes met his he could see his own joy and relief reflected back in them. In three long strides he was in front of her and, taking care not to damage her any worse than she already had been, he pulled her into his arms and kissed her.

“If you two are quite finished,” Wynne interrupted drily, “Loghain, why don’t you make yourself useful and hold her there so I can try to mend that arm and see about the cut on her jaw. I should be able to heal the bones well enough that they will set properly if she can keep her arm in a sling for a few days.”

“I think I can manage that,” he agreed, granting himself a small smile as Theadosia allowed him to pull her close and simply hold her still, grateful that she was there and alive and _his_. Once Wynne had seen to the worst of her injuries, he held her back at arms length, trying to ascertain whether there was any more damage, but she simply nestled back up to him with a small laugh.

“I’m fine, love.”

“Yes, so I heard you informing the enchanter, and yet you were remarkably _not_ fine.”

She shrugged. “Well, I am now. Are _you_ alright? What about Cataline? I am operating under the assumption that you would have told me by now if something had happened.”

“She is fine, as am I, by some Maker blessed luck,” he replied, taking her hand in his as they slowly started back towards the palace where Anora would be waiting with Cataline and the others.

“Or by magic,” Theadosia muttered under her breath. “In any case, I am simply grateful that you are alive, and whole, and that I will still have some years left in which to prove how very impossible I can be to live with. That is…” She hesitated, and Loghain could hear the faintest trace of doubt in her voice.

“What is it, Theadosia?”

She gave a small shrug. “I was not certain if… if now that we have survived, and you actually have a future to look forward to, if you would still want me. I would understand if I was just a diversion these past few weeks; a last bit of comfort before what could have very easily been the end, so-”

Whatever else she might have wanted to say was cut off as he bent down and pressed his lips against hers. They were in the middle of the palace courtyard, in full view of any number of soldiers and allies and Maker only knew who else, but he found he no longer much cared. “Theadosia,” he whispered against her ear, “I love you. That did not change simply because we have avoided one life or death crisis.”

“That’s good,” she laughed quietly, brushing a kiss against his cheek, “Because I rather suspect it won’t be the last. I would hate to have to go through a phase of self-doubt every time, as I imagine I would become quite unpleasant to be around.”

“I am not able to come up with any scenario in which you would be unpleasant to be with, my Lady,” he retorted, “But I suppose we will have plenty of time to think on it, won’t we?”

“Yes,” she graced him with a surprisingly gentle smile, “I suppose we will.”

 

* * *

 

 

The great hall was even more crowded than it had been during the Landsmeet. Despite the almost oppressive number of people milling about, talking and laughing and simply enjoying _life_ , Thea was grateful to be down amongst them instead of standing helplessly along the upper mezzanine. She was less grateful to be wearing an utterly impractical gown rather than her breeches and blouse, but it was a concession to the occasion, and even she had to admit the cut and color suited her.

She had not left Loghain’s side since the battle, and she stood there now, tucked away in a relatively quiet corner as Cataline made her way through the crowd. Her cousin accepted the praise and congratulations offered to her with quiet grace even as her eyes were shadowed with exhaustion and, Thea assumed, the same sense of loss and emptiness that the rest of them were feeling. They had stood on the brink of the void and stared into its face, and they had all lived to fight another day. Only Morrigan had disappeared, true to her word, which Thea had to admit was a bit of a relief. As much as she had liked the witch, and as grateful as she was that her magic had saved Cat and Loghain… she was still not exactly thrilled by the methods. It was easier not having to face her.

It had been easy to make the decision to stay in Ferelden, at least for the time being. Thea had already made arrangements with Margot before she left Ostwick to continue handling her half of the family business in the south. Neither of them had ever had any delusions that she would end up married off to some useless noble, content to bear children (the thought of which sent a small shudder up her spine) and run a household. She managed things just fine whilst travelling, and she would continue to do so. Anora had tasked her father with grey warden recruitment efforts in Ferelden for the time being, although Thea suspected that would not hold for very long. Not after everything that had happened.

Thea slipped her hand into his, and smiled slightly when he accepted the gesture, but she could feel the tension in his body. She ran her thumb gently over his hand. “How are you holding up, love?”

He shook his head slightly. “I should not be here, you know.”

“And why not?” Thea raised an eyebrow as she looked up at him. “You did what was right, in the end. You put your life on the line the same as I did, or Cat or Sten or Morrigan or any of the others.”

“The key phrase there being _in the end_ ,” he replied drily. “Hindsight is much clearer, isn’t it? Every mistake I made, every tactical error, every bad judgement…” Loghain sighed. “I should not be here. I should not even still be alive, if we are being honest with ourselves.”

“I’m rather glad you are,” Thea retorted.

“So am I, although I can’t say I would have felt the same way were you not standing here beside me.” He squeezed her hand. “I do not believe I will ever be able to atone for what I did here, you know.”

Thea gave a small sigh of her own. “I don’t know, love,” she leaned her head against his shoulder. “But that does not mean you should not try. And I will be there with you, every step of the way.”

“And thank the maker for that,” he murmured. He glanced around the hall. “Think we’ve stood here long enough? Your cousin still has to go meet her adoring public but I would just as soon slip out the side door and return to the inn.”

She couldn’t help the small smile that tilted at her lips. “In that case, I believe we have definitely suffered long enough.”

 

* * *

 

 

_One Year Later_

 

The main hall of Vigil’s Keep was surprisingly quiet, but Cataline Howe supposed that could be expected this early in the morning. She had slipped out of bed before Nathaniel had woken up, intending to respond to some letters that she had been letting pile up in the past week while they had been enjoying being newlyweds. Still, there were people who needed to be told, even if she was not exactly looking forward to having to justify her choices. Some small part of her was hoping that Fergus would simply be happy for her. He’d long known how she felt about Nathaniel, and the sins of his father could hardly be laid at his feet. Really, so long as she explained things to Thea before the other woman found out she should be fine.

“There you are. I might have guessed you would be up and working already.”

The familiar voice came from beside a pillar towards the front of the room, and Cat looked over to see Loghain Mac Tir standing there, offering her a small, reserved smile. She smiled brightly in return, striding over and embracing him warmly.

“Loghain! What are you doing here? You should have told me you were coming, I would have had a proper welcome for you.”

“It was a last minute decision,” he explained. “I have been informed by the First Warden that I am being transferred to Montsimmard in Orlais.” He shook his head in disgust. “And here I thought darkspawn blood would be the last poison I would be forced to drink.”

Cat frowned. “Like the void you are. I will speak with them.”

Loghain shrugged with a sigh of resignation. “You can try, though I am not sure it will make much difference. They are concerned that if I stay in Ferelden, I will ‘interfere.’ Who knows, maybe they’re right. Although I would argue that Anora is doing just fine on her own and hardly needs my help.”

“Still,” Cat protested, “I know how you feel about Orlais… and I am certain they do as well. I will see what I can do. Perhaps they will at least station you in Nevarra or the Marches or…” She froze as realization hit her like a bucket of water on an icy day. “Loghain, if you’re here, does that mean-”

“ _DO NOT WALK AWAY FROM ME, NATHANIEL ADRIAN HOWE_.”

“Perhaps if you stop shrieking at me like a blighted despair demon I will stop walking away from you, damn it!”

“And perhaps I would not be quite so shrill if you would stop and look at me! You have some nerve, you know that!”

Cat pinched the bridge of her nose as two of her favorite people in the world, her cousin and her husband, sniped at one another, their voices echoing off the stone walls of the great hall as Nathaniel stalked down the stairs. He was followed in short order by Thea who, in Nathaniel’s defense, was fair terrifying when she was in a temper. Which, clearly, she was at the moment. Storm blue eyes were sparking and her hands were clenched in pale fists at her sides.

“Should we-”

“No,” Cat stopped Loghain short. “No point stepping in. This will be good for the both of them.” Nathaniel had stopped a bit in front of them and had finally turned to face Thea as she continued her approbations.

“You disappear off the face of Thedas for eight fucking years…”

“Not by choice, Thea! You know that! You _know_ I begged father to let me stay.”

“And yet I have not had word from you in over _three years_! Not so much as a damned messenger bird!”

Nathaniel hesitated. “Alright, that… that may be fair.”

Thea’s eyes sparked dangerously. “‘ _May be fair_.’ Really? And then I hear that my best friend broke into Vigil’s Keep to try and kill my favorite cousin! How _exactly_ am I supposed to be happy about any of this, Nathaniel? Please, fucking enlighten me!”

“I was _never_ going to hurt Cat, Thea, and you know it!” Nathaniel shot back, anger burning in his tone. “I love her! I always have, and you know that too! Just as you know I love you like my own sister!”

“Hence my _utter_ confusion.”

“I know, and I am sorry. But she has forgiven me, obviously. I was rather hopeful you would be reasonable as well. Besides,” Nathaniel pointed back to where Cat and Loghain were standing, “ _He_ spent the better part of a year trying to have her killed, and it hasn’t stopped you from sleeping with him!”

Thea paused for a moment, and her expression stilled into something thoughtful. Finally she straightened her posture slightly, lifted her chin and, in her most pointedly precise voice said, “Well he wasn’t trying to kill _me_.”

Cat watched as Nathaniel threw up his hands in exasperation, but there was a tiny smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. “Really, Teddy Girl? _That’s_ the logic we’re going with.”

Thea broke out into bright, unabashed laughter. “Seems as good as any these days, does it not?” She held out her arms and Nathaniel lifted her into a great bear hug. “Damn it, I missed you, you ass.”

“I missed you too, Teddy,” he pressed a kiss to the top of her head before they finally joined Cat and Loghain, who were watching with amusement and bewilderment, respectively. Cat threaded her fingers with Nathaniel’s, smiling up at him.

“See. I told you she would be fine.”

“Says the woman whose hearing is still intact,” Nathaniel rolled his eyes, but he returned her smile with a small one of his own, and his fingers tightened slightly around hers.

“I am going to assume you have a good reason for not telling me you up and got married without inviting me?” Thea gave her a mock glare, tapping her toe against the floor.

Cat shrugged. “I sent word, but I am guessing it never reached you?” When Thea shook her head, Cat offered her an apologetic smile. “It has only been a week, if that helps matters any.”

“Don’t be silly,” Thea flashed a rare smile. “I am happy for you. _Both_ of you, even though I may still have to shout a bit more at your husband. I have to keep up appearances, you know. Can’t have people thinking I’ve gone soft.”

“Somehow I think there is very little danger of that, love,” Loghain raised an eyebrow at Thea, who just laughed and let him put an arm around her waist as she arched up onto her toes and pressed a kiss to his cheek. It was still a little odd to hear her cousin laugh so brightly and so easily; Cat had never actually expected for anyone to make Thea as happy as Loghain did, but she thanked the Maker for whatever grace he had shown them all.

Later that evening, when Nathaniel was keeping an eye on a drinking contest between Thea, Oghren, and Anders, Loghain came and sat down beside her as Cat watched the others with thinly veiled amusement. “Anders is going to end up passed out under the table again,” she shook her head in mock exasperation. “The man is the most brilliant healer I have ever met, but damned if he can hold his liquor. Oghren downed the darkspawn blood without even blinking, but I’ve seen Thea drink him under before. My money is still on her.”

“And I am smart enough not to bet against her,” Loghain agreed with a small smile. His gaze drifted towards the others and a small frown marred his brow. “Your husband has been remarkably cordial to me, given everything that happened. Especially with his father.”

“He does not blame you, Loghain,” Cat placed a gentle hand on his shoulder. “If anything, he feels sorry for you. When I told him everything that happened… he could see his father’s influence in more places than even I had. He knows that for every choice you made on your own, there were two more that were tainted by his father’s poisoned words.”

“Yes, well,” he replied drily, “That still leaves plenty of poor decisions at my feet.”

Cataline laughed softly. “True. But he loves me, and he trusts my judgement. And he loves Thea, and he trusts her. We can both see how the two of you are together. I just wish my mother and father were alive to see her finally choose someone that she finds acceptable.”

“They would probably kill me,” Loghain snorted skeptically.

“They would have to get through her first.”

He actually smiled slightly at that. “Fair enough. I had hoped to speak with you alone, in any case.”

“Oh?” Cat glanced at him, eyebrows raised. “Is something wrong?”

Loghain shook his head. “No. At least, I certainly hope not. I simply wanted to tell you that I intend to ask Theadosia to marry me, if she will have me. There is always the chance she will have finally come to her senses and will refuse, but I would be lying if I said I did not hope she will accept. I will not insult either her or you by asking your permission, but I had hoped to have your blessing.”

“Oh Loghain… it is about time,” Cataline smiled slightly. “That woman is head over heels in love with you, you know that, yes? She has been for years, long before she ever admitted it to you. And as I said: a blind man could see how devoted the two of you are to each other. So of course you have my blessing, and my enthusiastic support. I assume she has already planned on following you to Orlais?”

“She has, yes,” he confirmed. “I had hoped to find someone to perform the ceremony while we were still here, however. She would want you and Nathaniel there, now that she has apparently decided to spare his life.”

“I will find someone,” Cat reassured him. “Although if you are going to ask her, I would do it now before she gets too much farther along in their little competition.”

He took a deep breath, then stood. “You are right, of course,” he agreed. “Now is as good a time as any.” He hesitated before he glanced back towards her. “Wish me luck, Cataline?”

She smiled brightly. “Luck, Loghain. Though I doubt you will have much need of it.”

Loghain nodded, then approached the group at the table. He bent and whispered a few words in Thea’s ear and, frowning slightly, she stood and followed him out of the dining hall. Nathaniel watched them go, and then came and sat down beside her, wrapping an arm around her shoulder and pulling her close.

“You were right,” he murmured against her hair, pressing his lips to the top of her head. “Those two really are perfect together. I would have never believed it in a million years had I not seen it myself.”

“He is asking her to marry him,” Cat confided, and Nathaniel gave a quiet chuckle.

“They have been good for each other, I think,” he observed thoughtfully. “I always worried that Thea would never find someone who deserved her, but somehow… somehow I think they belong together.”

“As if you would have been able to keep quiet if you did not truly believe that,” Cataline giggled quietly, poking her husband gently in the ribs as he wrapped her tighter in his arms.

“She will always be my Teddy Girl,” he agreed. “As much family as Delilah is, so yes, I may be a bit overprotective of her. As it stands, however, I think Loghain Mac Tir may be even more protective of her than I am. Just don’t let her hear either of us ever say that.”

Cat smiled against his chest.

“Not a word.”

 

* * *

 

_9:41 Dragon, Redcliffe Castle_

 

 

“Well. I’m glad _that’s_ over!” Dorian gave her a dazzling smile that Thea found she could not quite return; not after what she had witnessed in the dark future they had just stumbled out of. Still, she had taken an instant liking to the Tevinter mage. He kept her on her toes, and his snark was a good balance to her own. She approved.

It had been nice to have a friend again over the past week. One who did not look at her like she was the damn second coming of Andraste herself. There was Leliana, of course, but they had tried to be circumspect in their recognition of each other, for various reasons. Thea was prevented from continuing this line of thought by the sudden and excessively loud approach of a contingent of Fereldan soldiers. Taking Dorian by the arm, she pulled him back towards one of the columns in the palace throne room, where the shadows provided some measure of anonymity.

“Or not,” she heard him sigh at her side. Thea poked him once in the ribs, then peeked around the corner.

“Oh shit,” she whispered, pinching the bridge of her nose. “I knew I was forgetting something…”

A strong, imperious voice rang out in the hall. “Grand Enchanter Fiona. When I offered the mages sanctuary, I assumed it was with the understanding that they would not drive my people out of their homes.”

“Queen Anora.” Thea could hear the fear creeping into the Grand Enchanter’s voice. “We never intended…”

“Your intentions ceased to matter the moment my people were threatened,” Anora retorted sharply and, for just a moment, Thea felt a welling of pride in her chest. Anora was her father’s daughter, no question, but she was also a brilliant and capable queen in her own right, and she was one of Thea’s dearest friends. She listened intently as Anora continued. “Your people are no longer welcome in my kingdom.”

“But, we have _hundreds_ who need protection,” Fiona protested weakly. Thea took a deep breath, then stepped into the light.

“Your majesty,” she bowed her head and, while taking care to ensure the others did not see, she briefly allowed her locket and the wedding ring that shared its chain to slip out from beneath her rogue’s armor. “I feel compelled to point out that the Inquisition came to Redcliffe to seek the aid of the rebel mages. We are willing to escort them out of Ferelden and offer them sanctuary in exchange for their aid in closing the breach.” Thea took another deep breath, then rose, her eyes meeting Anora’s.

The queen closed her eyes with a sigh. “Because _of course_ it is you,” she murmured under her breath. She met Thea’s gaze, a tiny smile tugging at the corner of her lips despite her best effort, and Thea returned the gesture as she spoke again.

“Queen Anora, may I have a word? In private?”

Anora nodded her head slightly, gesturing to a small side room off the main hall and instructing two of her guards to stand watch, but to not disturb them. Thea followed her into the room, then stood patiently as Anora shut the door behind them. When she turned, she looked Thea over from head to toe with what Thea could only describe as a blend of amusement and exasperation. Then she strode forward and wrapped her in a warm embrace.

Thea hugged her friend tightly. “For the record, Nora, I did not exactly plan this.”

“I should certainly think not,” Anora laughed. “I know you hate being at the center of attention. I had not heard that the fabled Herald of Andraste was my father’s wife.”

“Nora…”

Anora’s expression grew sad, and she shook her head. “No, Thea. I know what you are about to ask. It is the same thing I might have asked you, had I thought that he would have willingly left your side even for a moment. I’ve not had word from him for several months. I have had more correspondence from you, although,” she raised a delicate eyebrow, “I admit the letter where you mentioned falling out of the fade must have gotten lost somewhere.”

Thea felt her heart fall, and she knew Anora must have read the look of despair on her face. She did not have to hide it from her; was grateful that for once she did not need to. “Thea,” Anora took her hands gently in her own, “You know that if something had happened to him, we would know. For better or worse, my father’s demise would not be something that was kept quiet,” she pointed out wryly. “All of southern Thedas would know, if only because the culprit would inevitably wish to take credit. And, wherever he is,” she pulled Thea back into a fierce hug, “I know that he is probably hating himself for causing you pain.”

“Thank you, Nora,” Thea whispered, fighting back tears she knew she could not afford to shed. “I’ve missed you terribly, you know.”

“I’ve missed you too, Thea,” she pressed a kiss to her forehead. “But I fear we still have much to do. Fortunately you look miserable enough that I can pass off our discussion as negotiations for taking the mages. I hate to do this to them, but…”

“I know,” Thea shrugged, “But you have a kingdom to run. I do not blame you. You were incredibly gracious to take them in the first place. You know I don’t have much use for Fiona, and honestly it was rather amusing watching Vivienne take her down a peg, but the others…”

“They will be safer with you, I think,” Anora agreed quietly. “And here,” she slipped a ring off of her finger and onto one of Thea’s. “A reminder to write more often, and to visit me once in awhile. Court has been dreadfully boring without you and father there rolling your eyes constantly.”

Despite herself, Thea managed a small breath of laughter. “Thank you, Nora. Alright,” she schooled her expression back into something more appropriate for the leader of the Inquisition.

“Let’s go see to my new mages.”

 

* * *

 

 

“Is this the part where we share deep dark secrets and become the very best of friends?”

Thea threw a sharp look at Dorian, who had elected to ride beside her at the head of the column on their return trip to Skyhold. They were far enough ahead of the rest of the group that she was not terribly concerned about eavesdroppers, but…

“Fine,” she offered him a half smile, “You go first.”

Dorian gave a brief snort. “My life, Theadosia, is a swirling torrent of hedonism and excess and scandal. I am not certain where to even start. _You_ , on the other hand, are an enigma. I am particularly curious about that locket you let slip back at the palace. And, if I’m not mistaken, there was a wedding ring on that chain too.”

“Well. It seems that you are observant as well as utterly charming, darling,” Thea could hear the slight strain in her voice; prayed Dorian could not.

“Quite,” Dorian replied airily, although there was no spite in his tone. “I also noticed that you seemed to be on quite familiar terms with Queen Anora.”

“My family trading empire has contacts with every major nation in southern Thedas,” Thea shrugged. “Granted, I generally run things behind the scenes and let Margot handle the public side, but I am not always able to avoid it.”

Dorian reached out and placed a comforting hand on her arm. “Try again… Lady Mac Tir.”

Thea felt her heart drop into her stomach. She contemplated denial; discarded it. After everything they had been through in the brief few days she had known him, she had developed an annoying affection for the mage. Instead, she met his eyes.

“How did you know, Dorian?”

“It involved bribing a one-eyed kitchen girl, three trained nugs, and my great aunt’s secret recipe for custard.”

She gave him a look of utter incredulity. “It did not.”

“No, of course not,” Dorian laughed, “But the truth is boring. I overheard you speaking with Leliana and she mentioned something about asking Anora if she had heard anything from her father. It did not take much to put two and two together when I saw how the queen reacted to your presence. I assume she has not had word either?”

Thea shook her head. “No. I had not really expected her to have, of course. Then again,” she smiled wryly, “I did not expect to see her at all. I am trying to decide if I have the best or worst luck in Thedas.”

“We could make a diversion to one of the scandalous gambling dens in Val Royeaux, test your theory?”

Despite herself, Thea laughed, and she accepted the waterskin Dorian passed her. “Don’t tempt me, Dorian,” she scolded, her tone teasing. “That sounds terribly appealing right about now.”

They fell silent for a moment as a scout overtook them, riding ahead with messages for Haven. Thea was already not looking forward to the fallout from her decision: her arguments with Commander Cullen were already becoming something of a legend in the tiny village. Once the scout had ridden out of sight, Dorian spoke up again.

“How long as it been?”

Thea sighed. “Five months, give or take? When I was called away to the conclave, he said he was going to look into some odd warden business. We agreed to meet up again in Ostwick when I returned. Blackwall and I found some traces of a warden travelling along the Storm Coast and of more wardens trying to track him down. I strongly suspect it was my husband, but neither of us is certain.”

“I see,” Dorian nodded. “And who else knows? You seem to be acquiring quite the eclectic little club.”

“Just you and Leliana,” Thea replied quietly. “I would prefer to keep it that way until… until I know whether or not I am still married, or a widow.”

“You have my solemn word,” Dorian assured her. “I am not sure what you southerners swear on exactly… well, since we are in Ferelden I will swear by the mabari, perhaps?”

Thea smiled.

“I’ll take it.”

 


	5. Horizon

_You may call me a dreamer_  
_Call me a fool_  
_Just a blue eyed believer_  
_Of the colors in you._

 

-“Under Grey Skies” by Kamelot

 

* * *

 

 

“You are certain, Ven?”

Theadosia Mac Tir looked to her kin, who nodded firmly. “I am positive, Teddy Girl. Trust me, I was surprised too, and even more surprised that you were not with him. I have not seen either of you since our little misadventure in Kirkwall. You _have_ been busy, haven’t you?”

Thea sighed and leaned out over the stone wall surrounding Skyhold, her eyes surveying the bustling hive of activity that seemed to mark every waking hour of the Inquisition’s days. “Not by choice, Ven. You know me: I prefer to pull strings from behind the scenes. Cat has always been better with the people side of things.”

“Yet according to Varric, you have proven to be a natural leader,” Ven prodded gently. “He never mentioned that his new boss was _you_ , though. We will have to have that discussion.”

“And he swore to us several times that he had no idea where _you_ were,” Thea gave her a small grin. “I do not know how that dwarf keeps his stories straight, but I am somewhere between impressed and exasperated.”

Ven laughed. “I think _anyone_ who has met Varric feels that way. If I had realized that _you_ were the Inquisitor, I would have dragged Loghain here with me and he could have told you all this himself.”

“You are operating under the assumption that he is going to survive our reunion,” Thea deadpanned. “I have not heard from my husband in almost six months, and it has nearly broken me. What in the void is going on that he has gone dark, from me of all people?”

“That, I don’t know,” Ven replied carefully. “Because I know he is worried sick about you. Something to do with wardens, but beyond that… He was very insistent that I keep an ear to the ground for any word of you as I traveled, and to see if the Inquisition may be able to help find you.” Her face broke out in a wide grin, teal eyes sparkling. “I am _very_ interested to see how he reacts to finding out you are the Inquisitor herself.”

“Hmm, yes,” Thea murmured, more to herself than to the woman beside her. “Do me a favor, Ven? I assume you plan on sending word to him before we set out to Crestwood tomorrow.” When Ven nodded, Thea continued. “Let’s not mention any names just yet. If he has been in hiding this long, he has a reason. I do not want him doing anything reckless.”

“And admit it, Thea darling,” Ven flashed a brilliant grin. “A tiny part of you just wants to see his face when he realizes it is you.”

Thea gave a quiet breath of laughter. Her exterior betrayed nothing, but in her heart emotions were roiling like the sea during a storm, and it was taking every ounce of her self-control not to collapse in a weeping heap in front of Ravenna. _He is alive._ He simply had to stay that way until she reached Crestwood and dragged him back to the safety of the Inquisition. To _her_.

“Perhaps.”

 

* * *

 

 

He took a deep breath, in, then out.

Ravenna Hawke had sent word two weeks ago via messenger raven. It had been a short missive: _Inquisitor agreed to meet. Leaving tomorrow morning. She’s interesting._ Loghain had reread the words a thousand times, trying desperately to grasp at hope where there probably was none to find.

His news of the new Inquisitor had come in bits and pieces: he had been on the run for six months from the Grey Wardens, who had apparently gone absolutely mad, and it was not as though he could just stroll into a town or village and ask about the enigmatic and charismatic new leader of the fledgling organization that had emerged as the only entity willing to stand up to Corypheus and the threat he posed to Thedas. From what meager news he had been able to glean, he knew the Inquisitor was a woman, relatively young, and possibly a Marcher. Some descriptions claimed she had the desperately hoped for red hair and blue eyes; others that she was an elven spy with hair as blond as corn silk, others still that she was a rogue Rivaini mage with dark hair and green eyes.

It had been six months since he had last sent word to Theadosia. If he had known then how events would unfold, he would have never answered Warden Commander Clarel’s summons. Loghain should have been there with his wife when she attended the Conclave, and now… now he had no idea if she was even still alive. But still, he clung to that fragile hope that he had once derided as a fool’s dream.

He took another breath.

From somewhere in the tunnel leading to the smuggler’s cave in which he had taken refuge, Loghain could hear the approach of footsteps. Worse, there were several pairs of footsteps. He stood and pressed himself against the back wall, waiting for the moment when the intruders would enter. Maker willing, it would only be Hawke.

But it had not been Hawke the last three times.

Loghain held his breath, watching silently as a figure wearing leather armor with the rain-soaked hood drawn up over their head entered. They were well-armed: a bow etched with lyrium runes rested on their back, and two gleaming daggers sat at their waist. He stepped forward on silent feet, then drew his sword.

“Oh, you did _not_ just draw your weapon on me, Loghain Mac Tir.”

His arm dropped to his side as the words washed over him, her tone low and dangerous but still just ever so slightly amused. He tried to keep his heartbeat steady as he watched delicate hands reach up and neatly remove the hood of her coat to reveal hair that burned like the leaves in autumn, and when she turned he nearly drowned in the storm tossed sea that lit her eyes. There was a new cut along her left jaw, and her armor was marred by soot. He suddenly had the sneaking suspicion the dragon that had been terrorizing Crestwood would no longer be an issue. Loghain suddenly felt the familiar shimmer of barrier magic settle not only over Theadosia, but over himself, as a mage who looked to be of Tevene origin entered the cave accompanied by Ven, a dwarf, and a qunari.

“It’s just us,” Ven interjected quickly. “And look! I brought Thea. I should get points for that.” She turned to the others and shrugged sheepishly. “I should get points for that.”

“And I am hoping we can avoid any collateral damage here,” the mage added drily. “Quite honestly, Warden, you’re the more likely to end up flat on the ground.”

“Theadosia…” he whispered her name, almost afraid to acknowledge that it was truly her.

“Shit,” the dwarf sighed. “Hawke, you might have mentioned that your warden contact was the same guy who spent the better part of a year trying to kill Teddy Girl’s favorite cousin.”

“Not inaccurate,” Theadosia retorted, although her eyes remained fixed on him, “but _not_ why I am angry at the moment.”

“Theadosia, I can explain…”

“Oh you had _fucking better_ ,” she shot back, and Loghain could see the temper sparking behind her eyes. “ _Six. Months_. It has been six months since I have heard a damn word from you! Do you have _any_ idea how worried I have been?” Her voice was rising now, and he felt a swell of guilt in his heart when he saw the threat of tears shining beneath the anger in her eyes. “Do you have any idea how many letters I’ve written? How many messenger ravens I’ve sent? I thought you were dead!”

“Theadosia, I’ve been in hiding from the damn wardens,” he sighed. “I have every single one of your letters, and if I thought-”

“If you had been thinking, you would have found me!” Theadosia was shouting now, and Hawke and her companions looked as though they were trying to pretend they were literally anywhere else. “We could have done this together, instead of fighting on our own! Do you have _any fucking idea_ what I have been through the past six months?” She stopped short, her breath suddenly leaving her, and when she looked back up, Loghain could see the tears were flowing freely now.

“I needed _you_.”

She looked as though she were about to start in on another string of admonishments, and so he did the only thing he could. He took two long strides across the narrow space of the cave, wrapped his arms around her waist, lifted her up against his chest, and kissed her.

And Andraste save him… she kissed him back.

Theadosia’s arms twined easily around his neck, her toes arching up in the familiar pose to fit her body all too well against his own. The taste of her lips was exactly as he remembered it, and yet at the same time so much better for the reality of her. It had been too long since he had held her like this; too long since they had been in the safety of each other’s arms.

“Uh… wait… is that a thing now?” He heard the qunari ask, his tone somewhere between confused and hopeful. “Boss gets cranky, we just scoop her up and smack one on her lips?”

“I wouldn’t recommend it, Tiny,” the dwarf chuckled. “If I had to take a guess… I’d say we just found a lot more than a rogue warden.”

“I’m still angry with you,” Theadosia murmured as they finally parted, her arms remaining around his shoulders and a small smile tugging at the corners of her lips.

“Then I am clearly out of practice,” he replied, pressing a kiss to her forehead as he held her close.

She laughed quietly, the sound a music that drowned out even the false calling that scratched and kneaded at his mind. “There are things we could do to fix that, you know…”

“Perhaps,” he agreed, “Although I would suggest we wait until we do not have quite the audience we currently do.”

“Ah. Right,” she rested her head briefly against his shoulder before she turned to her traveling companions. “I suppose introductions are in order. Warden Mac Tir, this is Dorian Pavus, a magister of Tevinter most recently of the Circle of Vyrantium. Beside him is The Iron Bull, leader of The Bull’s Chargers mercenary company, and finally we have Master Varric Tethras: reluctant member of the dwarven Merchant’s Guild, storyteller, and self-proclaimed occasional tagalong. And of course you know Ven, my first cousin once removed. I think? I can never keep track of all that.”

“Everyone, may I present Warden Loghain Mac Tir.” She paused, then turned back towards him with her favored half smile playing on her lips.

“My husband.”

 

* * *

  

Rain beat steadily against the canvas walls of the tent, but that was not what woke Loghain up. He had to blink his eyes a few times to reorient himself; to remember that he was no longer in the dank and dark cave, but was instead in an Inquisition camp. A cot had replaced the well-worn bedroll he had been using, and his arms were wrapped around the warm, familiar body of his wife.

A body that, at the moment, was shaking with quietly muffled sobs.

“Theadosia,” he whispered, pressing a kiss to her temple as she rolled over and buried her head against his shoulder and he held her close. “Sweetheart, what’s wrong?”

“You would be better served asking what _isn’t_ wrong at the moment,” she whispered hoarsely. “I feel like I have lost control of my own life. Cat and Nathaniel are off somewhere in the west trying to find a cure that could save you all, but it has been awful having them gone. And then you disappeared without a trace, the Conclave exploded, my hand was marked by the fade itself, and somehow I have ended up leading these people. I hate it.” A fresh wave of tears overtook her, and Loghain rubbed a gentle hand along her back as she sobbed against his chest.

“I missed you, damn it,” she choked. “I missed you, and I think the only thing that has kept me alive these past six months is the blind, impossible hope that _you_ were still alive; that I would find you again and my heart would be whole.”

Loghain sighed, burying his face against her hair and pulling her as tightly against him as he could. “Theadosia, I hated not being with you. I hated every single moment not only for my own sake, but for the heartache I knew I would be causing you. Had Clarel not gone completely mad and led so many of the other wardens astray, I would have never left your side.”

“As hard as it was, love,” she whispered, “I am glad you did. If you had been there with me… Loghain, so many people died. If you had been one of them, I would have never been able to forgive myself.”

“Fortunately for you, Sweetheart, I have proven remarkably difficult to kill,” he pressed a kiss to her forehead as she laughed quietly. “Ask your cousin about it sometime.”

“You are impossible,” she tilted her head up and brushed a kiss against his lips before she nestled back beside him, the tears drying on her cheeks.

Loghain ran a gentle hand along the length of her spine. “So I have been told. Theadosia, love,” he took her hand in his own, “Never again. I am never letting you go ever again.”

“Promise?” She whispered, her voice already laced with sleep.

“I promise, Theadosia. Never again.”

 

* * *

 

_Never again_.

_I promise. Never again_.

Those had been his exact words, unless Thea was very much mistaken. Granted, it had been over a month, and there had been countless words spoken between the two of them since then. Loghain had returned with her to Skyhold, and the looks on the others’ faces when Thea calmly introduced him as her husband had been more amusing than they probably should have been. But still, they were together again. She felt as though the weight of the world felt a little less burdensome, and her world filled with a bit more color and light. Every spare moment of her day she spent with him, trying to fill in the time they had lost. She had actually been _smiling_ , and laughing, to the bemusement of most everyone else in Skyhold.

And then, there was Adamant.

Thea was, at this point, not having a particularly good day. The siege itself had been an unqualified success: she’d had not only her husband, but another warden, Jean-Marc Stroud, and Ravenna Hawke at her side. Dorian, Blackwall, and Cassandra had followed her into the fortress and then, unwittingly, into the fade. Thea had decided at that point that her day was probably not going to improve.

The sane, logical, rational part of her brain told her they were lucky that only one of their number had been left behind. Given the odds, it was a minor miracle that _any_ of them had made it out alive. Somehow, however, that had not made things any easier. Not then, not now. And the one person she had been hoping would protect her while she took a moment to grieve and breathe and process had just spoken words that cut her deeper than any blade or arrow had.

“What did you just fucking say to me?”

Loghain sighed and rubbed his eyes, streaking ash across his cheek in the process. “I have to go to Weisshaupt, Theadosia. I am the most senior member of the order left, and they have to be warned.”

“And why, exactly, are _you_ the one who has to carry the message?” She asked, her voice trembling with rage and grief and fear. “Is the task so difficult that no other warden can complete it?”

“Because it is my responsibility, Theadosia!” He shot back, his voice rising. “Because I am a grey warden!”

“You are also my husband!” She could feel her cheeks flushing and her nerves fraying. “You could just as well serve the wardens by coming back to Skyhold with me and the rest of them!”

“This is not up for debate,” Loghain threw up his hands in frustration. “I have a duty as a grey warden, and _you_ are supposed to be leading the Inquisition. Start acting like it.”

For a moment, time stood still. The other wardens and Inquisition soldiers who, up until that point, had been at least pretending not to listen in, were now staring openly at them. Thea was vaguely aware of Loghain sighing and pinching the bridge of his nose, but something had snapped within her.

“Theadosia, I-”

“No,” she replied, her voice calm. “It is clear that I hold no claim to you, Warden Mac Tir. Do as you will.” Thea turned away, her head held high as she began issuing orders. “Blackwall, find Cullen. Tell him I want a status report within the hour. Dorian, track down Solas and Vivienne and begin triage for the wounded. Cass, you and Ven go track down Varric. I’ll need quills and parchment and I know he always has them.”

She strode away before any of them could reply. They had not seen her break yet; she would not break now. Not until she was far away from here.

Thea did not pay much attention to what she was throwing in her saddle bags. Several water skins, dried meat rations, the salve Anders had made before they left that would protect her fair skin from the unforgiving sun of the desert. She was only a day’s ride from the nearest Inquisition camp, and from there she could pause and resupply before returning to Skyhold on her own. She would not abandon the Inquisition simply because her life was falling apart around her.

“You going somewhere, boss?”

Thea exhaled slowly, then turned to face The Iron Bull. “I’ve had a void of a day, Bull.”

“Yeah, I heard,” he nodded, careful to keep his horns lowered away from the canvas of the tent. “Demons and shit.”

“Yes,” Thea laughed weakly. “Demons and shit. Are you going to give me some grand speech about sticking it out?”

“Oh, shit no,” Bull grinned. “I know what happens when you push someone too hard. You need a break, you get a break, at least as far as I’m concerned. But you’re not riding off into that desert alone.”

Thea couldn’t help a small grin of her own. “That so?”

Bull shook his head. “Nah. It’s a good thing Dorian is awful at taking orders. He’s got some of those weird lizard critters saddled up and waiting around back. We’ll make sure you get home safe.”

“I never said I was going back to Skyhold.”

“You didn’t need to,” Bull replied, his tone surprisingly kind. “Whether you like it or not, and I know you don’t, you’re a good leader. And your husband isn’t the only one who gets hung up on responsibility.”

She rolled her eyes, but some part of her was glad she would not be alone.

“Alright,” she conceded. “But somebody will need to keep the others distracted.”

“Already on it!” Bull replied cheerfully.

And somewhere in the distance, a chorus of shrieks went up in the night. If Thea didn’t know any better, she would swear they were yelling about bees.

 

* * *

 

 

“You’re an idiot.”

Loghain sighed heavily, then turned to face the appraising gaze of Ravenna Hawke. “You don’t say.”

The woman hopped down from the ruined section of wall where she had been perched, idly running her thumb along the hilt of the dagger at her waist. “Hmm,” she hummed in agreement. “And trust me: I know from idiots. One of my best friends stole from the qunari. But you just let the best thing in your life walk away.”

“Hawke, I have to do this,” Loghain shook his head, trying to pry loose the pain that was gathering at his temples. “Someone has to warn them.”

“Yeah,” Ven agreed, “ _Someone_ does. Why does that someone have to be you?”

“Because…” his voice trailed off, unable to find the words to explain.

“Because you still feel like you need to suffer,” Ven filled in quietly. “Because you fucked up ten years ago, and you are still paying for your sins. Which is fine, but I don’t think that means you have to give up everything that is good in your life along the way. I think I know a little something about the path you’re on, because it is not so very different from the one I choose to walk with Anders.” She leaned back against the wall with a soft sigh. “Loghain, don’t give up on her. Don’t give up on the two of you together. There is enough dark and hate in this world that we can use all the love and light we can find, and as unlikely as the two of you are, even a blind man could see that you are utterly lost in each other.”

Loghain stared at her for a moment, her usually sharp teal gaze surprisingly kind. “Ravenna… I think I have made a horrible mistake…”

“No shit,” she rolled her eyes. “Look, I will go to Weisshaupt. Anders and I need to get out of the country anyways. Thea was never going to be able to protect us forever, much as she would have tried. We will take the message to the wardens. I think Anders has some choice words for those assholes about Ser Pounce-a-Lot, anyways.”

“Thank you, Hawke,” Loghain reached out a hand, but to his surprise his friend just laughed and embraced him warmly.

“Just keep an eye on her, alright? She tends to get into trouble otherwise, and I’ve grown rather fond of her. Both of you, really. But you’d better get your ass going: Dorian and Bull will only be able to slow her down so much.”

 

* * *

 

It took three days for him to catch up to her. When he reached the small camp, Dorian and The Iron Bull gave him a small wave of greeting before silently nodding in the direction of the lake they had camped close to. Theadosia stood silhouetted against the light of the stars and the moon, tossing rocks listlessly into the water and sending ripples of distortion against the serene reflection of the night sky. Loghain approached quietly but with enough noise that she would know he was there, standing beside her but not reaching out for her yet.

She didn’t speak, and his heart broke a little more with every moment that passed by in silence. Finally, when she ran out of stones to throw into the depths, he carefully reached out and took her hand in his, and he was alarmed to find that she was trembling. Before she could step away he pulled her into his arms, holding her tightly against his chest as she finally collapsed, quiet sobs wracking her body.

“Theadosia,” he murmured against her hair, “I am so sorry.”

“You _promised_ ,” she whispered hoarsely, grief and rage tearing through her voice.

“I did. And I intend to keep that promise, Theadosia. I am not going anywhere. Not without you. Never again.”

“You said you had to go to Weisshaupt,” she stepped out of his arms and crossed her own over her chest, chin lifted and eyes alight with hurt.

Loghain sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose briefly before he held out his hand to her again. To his relief, she accepted it, and stepped back into his embrace. “Ravenna pointed out that I was an idiot.”

“Yes.”

Despite himself, he laughed softly, holding her closer and pressing a kiss to the top of her head. “She also said that perhaps my continued regret and remorse did not necessitate dragging you down with me. And that… maybe I could allow myself the one person who has made my life worth living despite all of the darkness in it.”

“Loghain,” Theadosia arched onto her toes and wrapped her arms around his neck, and her lips met his in a kiss that was gentle at first but that seemed to intensify the longer they held each other. “I prayed you would come after me, my love. I thought I lost you once, and it nearly destroyed me. The thought of losing you again…”

“I should have never let you leave,” he whispered, carefully brushing away the tears that had fallen on her cheeks. “Theadosia, if you can forgive me-”

“I already have, despite my better judgement,” she interrupted, pulling him back into a fierce kiss. “I love you.”

“I love you, Theadosia. Whatever happens next,” he took her hand as they made their way back to the camp, “We will face it together.”

 

* * *

 

_What Came After_

 

 

Theadosia Mac Tir loved her house by the sea.

Gwaren was quiet: the teyrnir was isolated from much of the rest of Ferelden by the wild and capricious sea on one border and the dark mysteries of the Brecilian Forest on all others. The land had been a gift from Anora; a belated thanks to Cataline for her actions during the blight and her efforts to find a cure for the calling, and an apology to Thea for the way things had unfolded at the Exalted Council. While Loghain would never be teyrn again, and control of the land had passed to Anora herself, the queen relied a great deal on Thea and Cat to administer the teyrnir. Thea and Cat, in turn, shared that responsibility with their husbands.

And no one dared argue with either of them.

Cataline and Nathaniel had finally returned from the west and, though it was still early, it seemed as though the cure they had found was working. Neither Loghain nor Cat nor Nate had heard the calling, nor had they been able to sense any darkspawn in months. Whether the solution was permanent or not remained to be seen, but for now, Thea was simply grateful for whatever time it had bought her with the people she loved most. Her cousin and her best friend had also settled in Gwaren, and the four of them lived in peace and relative quiet.

The Inquisition had been disbanded; her friends and companions moved on to new challenges and new homes. She still spoke with Dorian regularly via messenger crystal, and received frequent letters from Varric. Ravenna and Anders had found their way back to Kirkwall and, though the latter still had to keep a low profile, they had more or less settled there for the moment.

Thea picked up a pretty stone from the beach and tossed it into the waves. Not in anger; simply from habit. Then she turned, and walked back to the blanket on the sand where her husband was waiting for her. She sat beside him and nestled close to his chest, breathing a sigh of contentment as he wrapped his arm around her.

“I am still grateful you were willing to come here, Theadosia,” he murmured quietly against her hair. “I would have followed you to the ends of the world but… still. I am glad to be back in Gwaren.”

“Loghain, you had a chance to come home,” Thea leaned up and pressed a kiss to his cheek. “I would never take that from you. Besides,” she gazed out over the rolling waves and the silver grey skies, “I love it here. I can see spending the rest of my life here.”

“My Theadosia,” Loghain laughed softly, “ _You_ are my home.” He lay down, and she followed, resting her head on his chest as he stroked her hair.

“And I intend to spend the rest of my days exactly as we are.”

 


End file.
